I can make this right but you won't make it easy
by Pursnikitie
Summary: After getting sent back in time from a witches spell Stiles desperately wants to get back home. Spending time in the past however changes his plans when he learns Kate Argent is in town with a 16 year old Derek Hale, and the fire hasn't happened yet. (Summaries a work in progress)


**I can make it right but you won't make it easy**

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Teen Wolf please don't sue. I am poor.

**A/n:** I'm just posting this right now to get some feedback so reviews are so very, very welcome. I want to know if people like where this is going.

**Chapter 1: **Stile's really needed to stop saving Derek's ass

It was all very confusing and tasted slightly of coconuts and school chalk. Really how did he even know what chalk tasted like? Was that a thing, a magic_ thing_? When you get hit with a spell you automatically now what weird tastes in the back of your tongue are? His eyes were closed as he fell to the ground landing unceremoniously sprawled out on the forest floor. He was expecting some yelling or any noise actually. That's usually what would happen after heroically saving Derek's ass, (for like the thousandth time. For an alpha werewolf he sure did get saved a lot. By a human. A very Stilesy human.) not that he was complaining. He enjoyed the silence for once seeing as how his brain was trying to force its way out of his eye sockets. This was too quiet though, he should hear breathing besides his own... hell he should be hearing a witch getting her throat clawed out for pulling that stunt. But there was nothing. Sure he could hear foresty things, like the wind whistling in the trees and naturey shit like that. Other than that though was silence.

Stiles chanced peeking an eye open then another as he hoisted himself slowly into a sitting position. "Okay guys this isn't funny." His vision, although blurry, couldn't make out shapes that resembled werewolves or witches. Everything was vaguely tree shaped. "Where are you?" The spell hadn't knocked him out, or he didn't think so anyway and if it had they wouldn't have left him in the woods alone. Scott wouldn't have anyway. Derek maybe, depending on how angry he was about Stiles ramming into him full speed to knock him out of the way. "Scott?... Boyd?... Derek?" The names came out softer each time, the last was barely a whisper.

He wasn't freaking out, he wasn't. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he was alone in the woods. His head just had to stop throbbing long enough for him to think of one. It was still day light so he couldn't have been there that long and he hadn't been transported anywhere. He was pretty sure he hadn't been transported or displaced, and he definitely wasn't dead because he was pretty sure you couldn't feel your head throbbing like this if he were a ghost. Did ghosts even exist? His luck they would, he'd have to ask Derek when he found him. But yeah, pain So, yay! alive. It took him a lot longer to stand up then he would ever admit. Being magicked sucked no ifs ands or buts about it.

Slowly he made his way out of the woods and to where his jeep was parked. Or should have been parked. Where the fuck was his jeep? He patted himself down and yeah his keys were still in his pockets. What the fuck was going on? He was cold and hungry and just wanted to get into his jeep(that was still mysteriously missing, even after he closed his eyes and opened them again) and get out of the chilly December air. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his red hoodie and huffed out a sigh as he started the almost hour long journey to his house. On foot. Fucking werewolves. Fucking witches.

"Okay," He said out loud to himself, trying to compose his thoughts into a cohesive line. "One, all my friends are dicks and left me stranded in the forest or something really bad is happening. Two, all of my friends are dicks and stole my jeep or something really bad is happening. Three all of my friends can be massive dicks _and_ something really, really bad is happening." None of this made him feel any better. In fact it made him feel at least ten times worse.

His shoes scuffed at the sidewalk as he made his way down the towns centre. He quirked an eyebrow when he passed the movie theatre and saw the show listings. (King Kong, memoirs of a Geisha, and Narnia: the lion the witch and the wardrobe) which was weird because those movies were all like six years old and he hadn't heard about them re-releasing any of those, and Stiles prided himself on his up to the minute pop culture knowledge. There was some Twilight Zone shit happening right now. He could feel it.

Stiles made his way home as the sun was dipping below the treetops. Noticing that his jeep wasn't in the driveway and his fathers cruiser was also missing he let out a defeated sigh as he slid his key into the lock. The door opened and the teen stepped into the house letting the warmth seep into his bones because he was just done with today. He just wanted to sleep and deal with everything tomorrow. He stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbed the chocolate milk and drank the entire container in one gulp. "Oh my god that was so good." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his sleeve as he leaned against the counter. He was far to tired to even think about the fact that something was off about the kitchen. Like way off, everything looked a little newer. He shrugged it off though because his bladder was telling him that he needed the bathroom, ASAP.

When did his dad change the shower curtain? This one looked just like the one they had when he was a kid. Which was weird because the other shower curtain was brand new. Stiles new because he was the one who bought it after Derek had bled all over the last one after fighting vampires. Yeah, vampires they were a thing that he had to deal with in his life. His_ freaking_ life. Anyway, the other shower curtain was fine when he left this morning so this was weird. Also. Why was there three tooth brushes? Scott hadn't left one here since he met Allison. Everything was strange, definitely Twilight Zoned.

He finished washing his hands and shuffled into his bedroom and kicked off his shoes. He didn't bother turning on the light before he fell onto his bed and drifted off to sleep. He wasn't asleep for very long, he knew that much, before he woke up to a voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Someone's been in the house John." It was so quiet and weak that Stiles breath got caught in his throat.

"Mom, Dad, whats going on?" A small high pitched voice questioned.

"Nothing honey, Daddy's just going to check out the house before we go in." There it was again, that voice. Her voice. Stiles heart drummed in his chest and he could feel the sweat forming on his palms as he lay silently on the bed. He could never forget it, would never want too but hearing it again made his body shut down. There were more hushed whispers, then the sound of foot steps on the stairs. Which shit, shit he had to move like now. Stiles had never moved so fast or graciously in his entire life as he grabbed his shoes in one hand while dodging around the giant lego Gotham city that was where his desk should be. And really how did he not notice that when he came in here it was massive and Wow it was beautiful why did he ever destroy it? That should go into some sort of record book really. This wasn't the time for that though and he shook himself from those thoughts as he hoisted his window open chucked the shoes onto the grass below.

Here went nothing, the wolves did this all the time he steeled himself taking a deep breath before hoisting himself out his window. He caught himself on the edge and pulled it closed before dropping down to the ground, curling in on himself to cushion the fall. The air was knocked out of him as he made an '_Uummmph_' sound. He grabbed at his shoes and shoved them on his feet before setting off at a sprint down the street, chancing a look back to the open doorway of his house as he did so.

There she was, scarf wrapped as elegantly as he remembered over her head, hiding the fact that she had no hair, and body looking skeletal and fragile. Her back was turned to him, which thank god because he would not be able to handle seeing her face right now. So he ran, and ran, and ran. He didn't know where he was going but he couldn't be anywhere near his house.

He was at Derek's Warehouse before he stopped running. Legs throbbing and chest heaving as he fought to take in air. The tears had been streaming down his face hadn't stopped and he fell against the wall if the building. It seemed like hours before he could pull himself up off the ground and inside. He knew Derek and the betas wouldn't be here that it would be just as empty as he felt but he had no where else to go and it was at least familiar. Less tables and chairs, but the train car was still there and it was warm, and it had electricity. So it was better than nothing.

He found a cloth, or a sheet, he didn't really know what it was but it was covering one of those giant spools and it would work for a make shift blanket and headed to the back of the train car where Derek would normally sleep. He Fell onto the floor and wrapped himself into the fabric. It was then that he broke. The panic taking over now. "Mom.." He croaked before breathing became next to impossible and black dots invaded his vision. Panic attacks weren't new to him but it had been a long while since he had one, and an even longer time since they were this bad. It was like his first all over again. What he did next couldn't be considered falling asleep. What it could be considered is passing out due to lack of oxygen to the brain. He'd take that though, over the panic.

It took him a few minutes to actually realize where he was when he woke up and when he did he could feel another panic attack trying to force its way out of him. He dug in his heels and gritted his teeth forcing himself to take deep breaths, in through the mouth, out through the nose. It took him about fifteen minutes but it worked. His world stopped caving in on him if even for a moment. He had to get out of here because sitting here was getting him nowhere. He takes stock of his resources. Car keys, to a jeep he doesn't have. Cell phone, that won't get any service because its not invented yet. He opens his wallet looking at the date on the money hoping beyond hope at least enough of it is usable to buy lunch.

There are two twenties from 2004 but the other fifteen dollars are from 2012, which he knows it is definitely not. So he's got forty dollars and his brain, where was Macgyver when you needed him. Suddenly he very much wanted Derek there to glower at him or growl at him or anything really. He's not sure when that went from terrifying him to comforting him but it did and he already missed it.

He dusts himself off after he stands up and stretches joints all popping satisfyingly. His stomach growls and he decides that before anything else he needed food. Greasy, unhealthy food. He walks to Beacon Burger and by the time he gets there its well after six O'clock. He makes it a point after ordering to ignore the looks the cashier gives him. He knows he's filthy okay? No need to stare. After he gets his order (large curly fries, bacon double cheeseburger and a large coke) he makes his way to a booth practically salivating the whole way.

He was barely in the booth before he started shovelling curly fries into his mouth. He moaned, probably louder than was publicly decent. So sue him, he was having a religious experience. Curly fries tended to do that to him. "Oh Sweet jesus." He breathed out taking a swig of epic proportions from his coke. His ears perked up though as he heard a familiar voice from behind him. Stiles turned around and came face to back of head with Derek Hale.

"Oh my god! Derek?!"


End file.
